


Night Breaths

by CrystalInstinct



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalInstinct/pseuds/CrystalInstinct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinda fluffy Tuckington, a short story about two soldiers and a piano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Breaths

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer; I don't actually know anything about playing the piano.
> 
> Notes from 2017: This story was not proofread before posting, and is thus very messy. I intend to return and edit it later on but for now it remains as is. Just keep that in mind.

At first Agent Washington thought he was hearing things. This thought should have been met with disbelief in a normal environment, but Agent Washington wasn’t known for his average psyche. So instead of worrying about if he was going insane, he just listened closer. The soothing sounds of a melody being played on a piano filled his ears, flowed through him filling him with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. What finally convinced him that he wasn’t hearing things was the fact that this was new. He hadn’t heard this melody before and he was convinced that there weren’t any new Epsilon memories to be unearthed, lodged into his brain. No, those memories were torn, sharp around the edges but this melody wasn’t neither. 

Agent Washington laid down the data pad on the table in the war room forgetting about the report he was typing late into the night, now completely engulfed in the steady melody echoing in the space. The soft and gentle notes mixing with the sharper ones, locked into a dance in the air that filled his lungs to the point he thought he might actually be suffocating. His armored hand searched for the corridor wall for support, his hand slightly trembling when he finally found the coarse surface. His feet felt heavy as he followed the hauntingly beautiful tones down the corridor, listening as the melody not only grew in strength but also in volume. The gentle notes bowed to the sharper ones, the melody getting more and more aggressive. 

His mind filled with memories of a house filled with music, a young woman playing a haunting melody on the piano underneath the windows that looked upon a foggy field of wheat- no that wasn’t right. He had never been to that house. Wash shook his head to clear the memories, only to remember the sounds of rain hitting the windows of an apartment in the inner city while he heard the sounds of fighting in the room behind him, he stared at the raindrops running down the glass as the whole world looked gray and disheartening. The CD of piano songs hiccuping once in a while, as it was worn down from the constant use.

Only as the melody changed yet again did Agent Washington notice that he was stood in the middle of the corridor, his feet firmly planted on the surface beneath him with no windows in sight. He lifted his gaze from the floor, directing his focus on the sounds coming from further down the hall. He didn’t know what or who was responsible for the music and he certainly didn’t know why his feet were so heavy, why he could feel the wetness on his cheeks. 

The melody was sweeter suddenly, tentative and sensitive, almost gentle as it engulfed Wash finally giving him the strength to move. Memories of cookies being made, a sweet melody playing in the radio mixed with gentle laughter and the sight of a girl with fiery red hair sprinting past him to the kitchen from where the smell of cookies was- no, no, no. There weren’t no cookies, there was the sight of boxes of cookies in the store as he felt his hand being tugged along too hard, there was the hauntingly beautiful tune from the store radio echoing down the empty aisles as he was tugged towards the exit. 

His feet picked up speed as he stumbled forwards in the corridor, only a mere thought spared to thank the makers it was late so he wouldn’t run into anybody. The notes were louder by each passing step until he stopped. 

The door to the storage room was slightly ajar and he could see the familiar silhouette lit by the lonely lamp placed by the piano. The piano looked like it had been through hell and back, one of its sides slightly charred, the blackness mixing with the light wood like the keys themselves. He averted his eyes back to the silhouetted figure who had his back towards him and stared at the gentle movement of his shoulders with the rhythm, his head following along the melody. Wash leaned against the frame of the door, mesmerized by the movement and the melody, non-stopping and flawless. 

The remainder of his sense of time got away from Washington as he listened as Tucker played. At some point he had closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing as the music moved through him. 

“You gonna stand there and stare all night?” Tucker said softly, only barely audible over the song he was playing. Wash opened his eyes and it took him longer than he’d like to admit to find his bearings. By then the song had changed, another melody filling the room and drawing him to the piano, and finally he sat down on the large crate placed by the piano. 

Tucker glanced at him before turning his gaze back to the keys with a smile on his lips. Wash listened for a while, both of them in comfortable silence before slowly grasping the clamps on his wrist and releasing the piece and placing it softly on the crate beside his own. Tucker glanced at him but continued to play the rising melody, the rush of the melody mixing with a comfort as Wash continued to take of the pieces of armor on his upper body, with his eyes closed and the music rushing through him. With the experience that he had after all these years of getting out of armor it didn’t take long before he was out of his armor sitting cross-legged on the crate still with his eyes closed and his hands on his knees immersing himself completely to the music.

Tuckers gaze rested on Washs freckled cheeks illuminated by the sole lamp in the room that cast huge shadows across the room. His fingers moved to the rhythm that he hadn’t lost during the years, moving quickly across the keys as his eyes slowly wandered across Washs face, memorizing every single detail no matter how small. He noticed all the scars that had faded into the freckles, the bags underneath his eyes that he knew would never vanish, the angle of his nose, and how half of his lips were swallowed by the shadows. These details weren’t new to him, he’d seen them countless times but not in this setting, not in this light. 

Tucker lost track of the time. They might have sat there for mere minutes or for hours, both silent and aware of each other. He didn’t know what it was that prompted the decision, but after he finished the last note of the last melody, he didn’t play the next note. The air was silent, filled only with the sounds of soft breathing, he felt his heart beat in his chest louder than before. 

It was Wash who moved first, opening his eyes and leaning back against the wall to see Tucker better. His eyes were filled with wonder, gazing deep into Tucker’s. 

“So you play.” Wash said, his voice soft and almost sleepy. 

“Yeah. Still got it.” Tucker responded stretching his hands over his head with a yawn. 

“You certainly do.” Wash said with a warmth in his voice that Tucker hadn’t heard before. Not knowing what to say Tucker stood up from the piano, offering his hand to Wash. He took his hand, and then they were close, nose to nose gazing deep into each other’s eyes. Tucker pressed his lips against Washs tenderly, his hand on Washs cheek as Wash pulled him closer.

“Thank you.” Wash whispered as they ended the kiss, resting his forehead against Tuckers. 

“For what?” Tucker asked.

“For giving me new peaceful memories that are mine.” Wash answered with no hesitation. 

“Dude, you’re so weird.” Tucker exhaled with a laugh pressing a soft kiss on Washs lips before helping him gather his armor as they made their way back to Washs room for the night, both of them filled with new peace and tranquility. The future didn’t look that bad for a few moments.


End file.
